


Hourglass

by CheeseAndCake



Series: Bloodstained Hourglass [1]
Category: Bloodstained: Ritual of the Night
Genre: Dominique's Family Doesn't Make Too Many Major Appearances, Fix-It, Gen, Johannes Centric, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Time Travel
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-06-30
Updated: 2021-01-19
Packaged: 2021-03-03 19:22:56
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 10
Words: 13,646
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24990757
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CheeseAndCake/pseuds/CheeseAndCake
Summary: Johannes spent 10 years regretting not doing more when he could have. The loss of Gebel and Alfred are just two more regrets.Then, a strange creature offers him a deal that sounds too good to be true: a second chance. He should say no- he had leaned first hand what happens to those who make deals with creatures from hell, but...He’s spent 10 years regretting not doing more, he’s not sure if he’ll last another 10, knowing he could have done something.(Please comment so I know what improvements I can make.)
Series: Bloodstained Hourglass [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2076900
Comments: 7
Kudos: 12





	1. The Offer

**Author's Note:**

> I noticed a disturbing lack of Bloodstained Fics, so I decided to write my own. Please note that this is my first fanfic, so if I have made any mistakes, please let me know. 
> 
> Also, don't worry, the OCs won't be the focus of this fic.

Johannes blinked as he looked out the window. Odd, the red glow of sunset was still there, and he could have sworn-

Oh, it was sunrise. He had been working all night. He sighed and began to pack away his equipment, taking extra care with the glasses- his keepsake of Gebel.

He should probably go to bed, since he knows how this will look when Miriam finds him. Honestly, he’s fine- he’s been eating properly, and just because he’s been staying up late working on a few projects doesn’t mean he’s _avoiding sleep_. It’s not his fault that once he starts theorising, he can’t seem to stop.

He rubbed his eyes as he closed the curtains and stumbled to bed. His clothes are comfortable enough to sleep in, and he’s pretty sure that when you’re seeing double, sleep is probably more important than getting changed.

Maybe Miriam had a point when she told him to ‘ _take his own advice_ ’ and ‘ _get some sleep, Johannes_ ;’ and he’s exhausted, so he’ll admit she has a point just this once.

* * *

When he opens his eyes, the first thing he notices isn’t the figure standing before him, or the fact that his clothes a cleaner than they have been for the past 3 days, or even the fact that everything seems pure white, besides the ground he’s standing on, which is the darkest shade of black that he has ever seen in his entire life.

No, the first thing he notices is how refreshed he feels. He had forgotten how good it felt to have a fulfilling night’s sleep.

And then he realises that he’s not alone here- wherever this is- and the relaxing feeling vanishes.

 _Stay calm, stay calm, **stay calm**_. He can do that- he’s walked through a castle summoned from _hell_ to get to Miriam because something didn’t feel right. He may not be as strong as her, or as skilled, but he has a whip, and knows how to use it. He’ll be _damned_ if Miriam has to lose another loved one. To ensure her safety and happiness, fighting another demon seems like a small task.

“I wouldn’t raise my weapon if I were you.” The… being said, and now that his attention is drawn to it, he realises that he _can’t describe it at all_. The voice had been clearly male at first, but by the end of the sentence, it was clearly that of a woman.

It wasn’t helping matters that whatever the thing was, its form was constantly changing- two brown eyes, short black hair, rounded nose, dark skin- four blue eyes, long brown wavy hair, bone like figure, large nose, thin lips, ivory skin- three green eyes, frizzy orange hair, freckles-

He’s never heard of demons like this- ones that change forms so frequently. The Doppelganger can shape shift, but it takes the form of its victims, this…

Well, the good news is: it’s not Bael, so he might survive this. The bad news is: he has no idea what this is, so he probably won’t survive this. _Lovely._

“I mean you no harm, mortal.” It continues, clearly taking his silence as an invitation to talk. Johannes watches, with some fascinated horror as it smiles, and- one mouth, pointed teeth- no teeth- two mouths, blunt teeth- decides it’s best to no longer focus on the details if he wants to maintain his sanity.

“What are you?” He asks, swallowing his nerves and placing his hand on the whip. He knows better than to trust the words of an unknown creature.

“An enemy,” He tenses, preparing for the blow, “or an ally, or a friend, or an acquaintance. It really doesn’t matter what I am. All that matters is why _you’re_ here, and what’s going to happen next.”

“And why, pray tell, am I here.” He responds, forcing his body to relax. _Being tense in an unknown situation does nothing. When fighting, it’s best to remain calm so you can think clearly, analyse potential threats, and act accordingly._

“Because it’s where you need to be to achieve what you want.” _Because that explains **so much.** _

“Where I need to-? I’d appreciate it if you stopped talking in riddles.” Maybe being rude to the unknown entity wasn’t the best of ideas, but if he knew what it wanted, he could use that, if he _assumed_ he knew what it wanted, it could end badly.

“Very well, I will skip the introductions and get right to the point: I wish to make a deal with you.” The being says, shifting into a more relaxed position.

“No.” The answer is instant, so he doesn’t even have time to consider the offer. His former brothers made deals with the creatures of hell and paid the price. He refuses to make the same mistakes. “I appreciate the hospitality, but if that’s all I’m here for, then I’d like to leave.”

“Not even for Gebel?” Suddenly, there’s ice in his veins, and it’s very hard to breathe. Has the creature done something? No- no creature could-

“Or Alfred?”

-This is his own grief and fear, he knows. The grief that he buried over the ten years of waiting for Miriam, of mourning his family, scorning his brothers, and preparing for the murder of his best friend.

“Or even the other Shardbinders? Rose? Alex? Nahla? Veronica? Eric? None of them needed to die.”

“ _What,_ ” He finally forces out, “do you _want_?” He can’t relax now. This creature hadn’t just chosen him at random to make a deal for- money, or power. No, it had clearly been watching him, waiting-

“What **I** want…? What is wanted is for you to listen to the deal before rejecting it.” He prepares himself. He knows the dead can’t come back- not peacefully- they come back screaming and begging for death. Whatever the creature offers, he knows he can reject it.

“What I’m offering you is a second chance.”

He opens his mouth to deny the deal, and the word dies on his lips.

“...What?” He whispers the word, but it’s clear the creature hears it, as they nod, and keep talking.

“What I’m offering is to send you back 11 years, 2 months, 17 days, and 4 hours into the past. Or, to be more specific, 6 months before the slaughter of the Shardbinders.”

“...And in return?”

The creature’s grins- it has two _mouths_ now- widens, and even its eye seems to smile. “What do you know about the Liber Logaeth?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The OCs won't be the major focus of this fic, but here's a physical descriptions of the Shardbinder OCs (in order from oldest to youngest):
> 
> Rose: Pale skin, freckes, short, red hair, and blue eyes. Short but strong. Has green (majority) and blue (minority) crystals, with most of them covering her hands and arms.
> 
> Eric: pale skin, long, blonde hair, and brown eyes. Somewhat short, with some muscles. Has red and black crystals, with most of them on his back and hips.
> 
> Nahla: Dark skin, medium length, black hair, and brown eyes. Tall for her age, but seems to have reached the end of her growth spurt. Has white and light blue crystals, with the majority’s covering her neck and chest. 
> 
> Veronica: Olive skin, long, dark, wavy, brown hair, and grey eyes. Average height and somewhat chubby (is that the word used?). Has purple and blue crystals, with most of them on her waist and legs.
> 
> Alex: Olive skin, with curly, short, black hair, and dark eyes. Tall and slightly frail, and has yellow (majority) and orange (minority) crystals, with most of them covering his shoulders and neck.
> 
> (Like with Gebel and Miriam, the crystals are everywhere on them, the majority are just the places where most of them are.)


	2. Make Sure You Read the Contract

_“What do you know about the Liber Logaeth?”_

That question snaps Johannes back into reality. He should never have even _considered_ the creature’s deal, no matter how much rejecting it hurts. “Absolutely not! I don’t care _what_ you offer me, I will **_never_** allow the Liber Logaeth to fall into the wrong hands-“

“Good.” Is all the creature says in response, its calm stance not changing in the slightest despite Johannes’ outburst, and he feels his energy leave him.

“What?” He whispers on instinct, wondering why such a powerful object would be brought up if the being in front of him didn’t want _something_ from it.

The creature hums, its voice sounding surprisingly warm and _gentle_ for a second, before it begins an explanation that it appears to have given several times in the past.

“The Liber Logaeth was originally a symbol of trust between humans and spirits. The knowledge within it was given freely, under the belief that it would be used to help people.” It’s position shifts as Johannes feels the tension in the area rise, and for an instant it was difficult to breath, before the creature’s posture shifts again, and he lets out a sigh of relief.

“In this conversation alone you have demonstrated that, while you care dearly for your companions, you are unwilling to put those you care for above the world. You are one of the few beings on this Earth I would consider making a deal with, as you are in the perfect position to act before it is too late, and you have the desire to do so.”

Johannes prepares himself, because high praise isn’t just given out with nothing desired in return, especially when speaking to some sort of spirit.

“And this deal would be?” He asks out loud. Unlike before, when it had grinned at his question and acted as if it had perfectly understood him, it simply hums and tilts its head.

“What is desired in return, mortal, is for you to seal away the book, so it can only be accessed by one accepted by the spirits.” It begins, speaking in a tone so calm that it almost sounds dead. “While it is true that one accepted by the spirits may still use the book to cause harm and injure innocent people, the likelihood of that happening is much smaller than if the book remained unsealed. From my understanding, if you were given the knowledge required, you would be able to pull off such a feat.”

He blinks, trying to find a way the creature benefits from such a thing. It sounds too good to be true. A chance to go back in time, with the only requirement being to seal away a book that he wants nothing to do with? _That can’t be all it’s asking._ “That’s it?”

The being grins, and stretches its wings, _which it has now_ , Johannes notes with a small amount of hysteria. “It would be preferable if the demon Gremory also died during your mission, but the one who calls himself Zangetsu will deal with her. He always will, one way or another.”

 _'He always will.'_ He files the information away for later, once he has a better understanding of the situation. Remaining cautious, Johannes focuses on the parts of the conversation he understands. In the very least, this creature is an enemy of Gremory, which would be comforting if betrayal for power among demons was rare.

There is, luckily, part of the bargain that can be examined without fear of offence. “May I be permitted to see this seal?”

The creature nods, and it holds out three of its hands- and a sigil appears. It’s not like any one he has seen before, but it bears a resemblance to other binding circles, ones that bind to a collective, rather than a singular will. He can’t see anything that would bind the book to the being in front of him, or any other demon, for that matter. He can also make out the symbols that care commonly used for ‘ _spirits_ ’ and ‘ _protection_.’

Which means that it’s most likely being genuine in its deal. Which is _insane, because-_

 _Breath, focus, analyse._ Even if its offer is still all there is to the deal, it’s still best to test the waters, if only slightly.

“What would happen if I were to say no?” He asks, keeping his voice a forced calm.

Its head tilts the side, and its eyes, rather than looking just beyond him, are now focused directly on him. It’s only now that he realises that it wasn’t looking directly at him before, and he wonders how he didn’t notice- it’s gaze is _intense_ , as if it’s pulling apart every piece of his soul and viewing each piece under a magnifying glass.

“Then you say no, and this dream ends, you wake up refreshed, having the best sleep you’ve gotten in a long time, and live knowing that you rejected this deal.” Its voice seems heavy, as if it _knows_ what that would mean for him, and based on how this conversation is going, Johannes believes it might.

He’s spent 10 years weighed down by guilt and regret for not saving the people he cared for. He doesn’t know if he can last another 10, knowing he could have _done something_.

“I accept.” It’s reckless and foolish, but- he remembers Miriam’s face after she woke up- the disbelief and horror when she learned what had happened while she slept- the look in her eyes when she told him Gebel died.

 _I can’t let it end like this_. He can't do _nothing._ He lost his closest friend and his teacher. His little sister was forced to fight through a castle summoned from hell, while all he could do was give her equipment and food, being _unable to lift a finger to help-_

He cuts himself off from that line of thought. Miriam wouldn’t approve of it, and he refuses to let her down any more than he already has- and already is, by doing this.

The creature, either ignoring or unaware of his loss of control regarding the direction of his thoughts, simply murmurs a “Very well.”

Something in the air **_changes_** , and-

It thrusts its -now clawed- hand out, revealing a- scroll of paper?

“Please read all of it before agreeing to it, if there’s something you don’t understand or wish to change, just ask.” It continues, gaze no longer focused on him, shifting its position in apparent nervousness.

Taking a deep breath, he gently takes the contract -made of black leather and some sort of golden and silver ink- from its hand, and begins to read it.

‘ _I, _________, hereby agree to the following terms:_

_Through the deal of **The Entity_** , _

_I will travel back in time by **11** years, _ **2** months, **17** days, _ **4** hours, **34** minutes, and _ **3** seconds. _

_My memories of future events **will be accurate and understandable, despite not being the focus of my mind, and my lack of emotional connection to them.** ______ _

_My memories of the past **will appear to be the most recent memories in my mind.** _______ _

_My **skills, muscle memory, abilities, and knowledge** _______ will also be brought back with me, with any new discoveries I have made written in the **Journal** __ provided by **The Entity.** _ _

_I am **allowed** __ to inform **those I trust** _____ of this deal and details of it. _

_In return, **I will do everything within my power to seal the Liber Logaeth, ensuring it is bound to the spirits, and therefore unlikely to fall into corrupt hands.** ___ _

_If either party breaches this: **I **f I** break the terms of this contract, the Entity will no longer provide guidance, information, or assistance, and will do everything in their power to make my life as painful as possible. While impossible, if the Entity breaks the terms of this contract, I will gain their power and abilities, and be able to use it to fulfil the original goal of this contract. Once completed, the powers gained will vanish, and both the Entity and I will become human.**_ _

_Signed:_

________________________ __________________________ ’

He stares at the contract, trying to find a hidden meaning. It’s good to know exactly what “The Entity,” as they call themself, wants, but there are some concerning things about it.

“I would rather have my emotions remain as they are, with my memories from the present also being at the front of my mind.” He says calmly. This- negotiating, altering, and finding a better solution- he can do. He’s done this almost every day since the Alchemy Guild collapsed.

They hum, staring at the contract in his hands. Hopefully, they were considering his options, and not a counter argument against them. “I can change how the memories are viewed, but it cannot be guaranteed that your emotions will remain as they are now.”

He raises an eyebrow. “Cannot, or will not.” He knows it's idiotic to challenge an unknown creature, but there are some lines he refuses to cross. Having his emotions altered is one of them.

“Cannot.” They respond without appearing to be the slightest bit angered. “You are not the same person you were then, your body and mind have changed. Even if your emotions are attached to those memories, it cannot be promised that they will be the same once they reach you.

“Even if it were possible, would you still want those emotions, knowing they caused you pain?”

“Even then.” He replies, without hesitation. Before- his emotions had been too focused on unimportant things- The Guild’s approval, his own fear of betraying them, loyalty to his brothers. While he can admit he did care about and try to protect the others, _it wasn’t enough_. If everything he is goes back, it will hopefully be enough.

“...Part of being human, I suppose. Please take a look at the new contract, tell me if it’s to your liking.” To his surprise, when he looks at the papers in his hand, the words written on them are slightly different.

‘ _My memories of future events **will be accurate and understandable, and be one of the focuses of my mind.**_ ** _My emotions will have an echo on them, allowing me to feel the emotions attached to them._**

 _The memories of the past **will appear to be the most recent memories in my mind, and easy to sort despite my personality also being sent to the past with my memories**._’

He takes a look at the altered area, then rereads the entire contract to make sure he understands it properly. This is dangerous, he knows, but the shame and regret of doing nothing is something he’s never been good at accepting.

He takes a deep breath, and tries to stop his hands from shaking.

“I’ll sign this.” He can hardly hear this over the sound of his own heartbeat, but he’s presented with a pen- some sort of long feather- and fills in his name and signature. As he fills in the last line, he notices that the Entity’s signature has also appeared.

Their symbol was an hourglass, with a star in each corner.

He doesn't recognise it at all.


	3. Time Travel is Not Pleasant

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ok, so- conversations with the Entity will have present tenses, while the "real world" will be written in the past tense. 
> 
> Please let me know if I got the tense muddled up at any time.
> 
> Also, I realised that the Laki Eruption began in June, and since the ritual took place a month into it, this story is set in December 1782, so I've made some minor edits here, and some story elements in the later chapters have been slightly changed.  
> Also, some more edits have been made based on the "The Last Week" artwork that I'm 97% sure is offical, which shows the characters before the ritual took place.

In hindsight, Johannes probably should have asked what going back in time actually _involved_. It was completely understandable for him to have assumed that he would just wake up in his bed 11 years ago, or that he would blink, and realise he was surrounded by people for perhaps fainting during a conversation.

That was not the case at all, and Johannes _wished_ he had been given some form of _warning_.

Because being sent back through time was not peaceful in the slightest.

It felt like falling though layer after layer of material, each one being torn as he was forced through it. Everything felt so _raw_ , and he wanted to open his mouth to scream, but-

He didn’t have a mouth. Or eyes. Or skin, or arms, _or lungs-_

Everything stopped, and breathing was- _impossible, oh, God, his lungs-_ difficult, but he _could_ breathe again. He just- needed to _focus_ , get it under control. He felt his heart beat, his mouth move, his limbs _react._ He was _crying_ \- he _had eyes again_. 

Moving was- strange. His limbs would react, but they were _too small_ \- and just right. His hair was- _too short-_ normal. He could see without his glasses- _he didn't need them until three years from now._ This was normal, he had always been this tall, and he didn’t have the muscle that fighters would have, but-

He remembered their faces.

 _He remembered their faces_.

The other alchemists, the Shardbinders, _he remembered all of them_. His memories, which used to be blurred, were now so _clear_. As if he had seen them yesterday, which- he had. He had read to Alex, Veronica and Nahla about alchemical theory yesterday, since Gebel wasn’t feeling too well, and-

 _Gebel’s alive._ Gebel was _alive_ \- maybe not safe- but somewhat healthy and _sane._ Johannes just needed to- 

He finally sat up- his muscles moved, thank goodness- and- his room was exactly as he left it 11 years ago- _yesterday-_ his desk was across from his bed, filled with papers, ink and books, there were- somewhat poorly drawn- circles on the stone floor, his clothes were folded neatly in the draws beneath his bed-

The moment he stood, the room seemed to spin, and the next moment, he was face down in the metal bin he had used to throw away his useless notes, emptying the contents of his stomach. He was lucky that he used to write notes in bed as often as he did on the desk, so the bin was closer to the bed than it was the desk. Small mercies.

Then, despite needing to _get up, and start planning,_ his body decided that it was a perfect time to pass out. 

_Lovely._

* * *

When he woke up, the first thing he noticed was that dawn was just creeping over the horizon. It was- December, so he must have slept in- 

The second thing he noticed was that _there weren’t any weapons within reach._

What had his past been self thinking? There wasn’t even a dagger under his pillow. How in the name of _anything_ was he supposed to defend himself if-

Right. Demons weren’t commonplace, and alchemists weren’t hunted by people grieving the loss of their family. Still, it wouldn’t hurt to draw some protection runes around his room, just to stop any unwelcome company. He got himself up- he felt surprisingly good for someone who had just thrown up and passed out, and-

There was a drawing of his colleagues on his desk. They’re all smiling. 

It was suddenly- he-

 _Breathe, focus._ Despite all his attempts, his body wouldn’t obey him. _Breathe._ This must have been what the Entity meant when they said he had changed. His grief- which had become a numb throb over the ten years of survival- was suddenly very _real_ , and _demanding_ to be acknowledged. His brothers had _betrayed him._ They had used children to-

 _Oh, God_ , the Shardbinders- his _siblings_ \- were going to _die-_ Gebel was _going to-_ he needed to think- he needed to _breathe-_

He couldn’t-

‘ _Let it go, Johannes.’_

For the first time in years _,_ Johannes allowed himself to do just that, fell back into the bed,

-and 

_Just_ \- let 

- ** _himself-_**

* * *

He didn't know how long he spent breaking down in his room, dealing with the new reality of his situation; how long he spent sobbing into his pillow before sleep claimed him, and a large part of him didn't care. All that mattered now was that he was _back,_ he was _here,_ alive, and able to _change things._

* * *

It was noon when he woke up, the sunlight streaming over his desk and onto his bed. Odd, for the time year, but not unheard of. 

There was someone in his room.

Perhaps, if he hadn’t spent the last few hours dealing with 11 years of repressed emotions, he would do _something_ , but right now, all he felt was… _drained_ , raw, and slightly sluggish. 

The intruder, having noticed that he was awake, turned to greet him. Johannes' heart skipped a beat, waking him up slightly before he remembered where and when he was. He was in the Guild, it was past noon. It was only natural that one of the alchemists- Henry, who he had agreed to help with some chores yesterday since the man had just turned 60 this week- would check on him. 

“Ah, Johannes, you’re awake, my boy!” The man began, smiling in what appeared to be relief. “I was worried when you didn’t meet me this morning.”

“Ah, apologies Master Henry, I was just…” Johannes hesitated, trying to find a word to convey what had happened without sounding too… 

“Don’t worry, my boy, it’s fine. No wonder you’ve gotten sick. You’ve been working yourself to the bone trying to complete your duties _and_ keep the Shardbinders occupied.” Johannes blinked. His voice did sound raw, so it was natural to assume illness. “Take some time to rest and recover, focus on your studies! I’ll let the others know that you’ll be resting for the next three days.”

It was unnerving, hearing Henry talk with such care, knowing what he was going to do in the next six months. 

“Really, you shouldn’t worry too much about the Shardbinders. They’re not part of the guild, and they- well, you know they won’t live as long as you or I.” Johannes drew a breath, and failed to stop himself from flinching. Doing anything rash to Henry would just make the situation worse. Noticing his flinch, Henry’s features twisted into concern. “I just don’t want to get too attached to them. The curse could leave them dead within the year.” 

Johannes felt his confusion grow as he turned over Henry’s words in his head. The curse would take at least _three years_ to put their lives at risk. While the man had never spoken ill of the Shardbinders when talking directly to Johannes, he had never _avoided_ the fate and cause of it that would await the Shardbinders, so why had he…? 

“Of course,” Johannes replied, the words well rehearsed and slipping from his lips automatically, “I appreciate your concern.” 

“Think nothing of it, my boy, just focus on getting better!” 

Once Henry left, Johannes finally allowed himself to relax. It was horrifying, how Henry could append one moment worrying over him, and the next, speaking so calmly about sacrificing children. 

_Wait_ , he stopped his train of thought as he tried to recall a particular memory that he could only access from future events. Right now, he wasn’t supposed to know what would happen to his siblings. All his past self knew was the _basics_ of the experiments, not the _goals_ of them. 

That’s one advantage that he had. If they think he’s ignorant, they won’t suspect his goals.

He sat up, and noticed a book- a journal- on the floor that he never remembered owning, even with his past memories more clear. He didn’t need to open it to know what its contents were, though. He recognised the hourglass symbol on the cover, with the only difference being that the top half of the hourglass was full. It couldn’t be mistaken for anything but the other part of the Entity’s Deal. 

When he opened it, he nearly fainted again from relief. The Entity kept the first half of the deal, so he wasn’t completely surprised to find the alchemy notes of his future self- theories, ideas, and, most importantly, _detailed methods on how to completely stop the corruption._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ... Yeah, suddenly ending up in a body that's not used to emotional suppression isn't the nicest thing in the world. Johannes isn't doing to well, but he's probably handling it better than most would. I tried to convey that it's both past!Johannes seeing (and feeling) the future and future!Johannes ending up in the past. Let me know if you think I succeeded.
> 
> Character ages in the past (because I can’t seem to find any ages listed besides Miriam’s):  
> Alfred- 56  
> Johannes- 19 (and 30).  
> Gebel- 19  
> Miriam- 17 (Headcanon that Miriam fell into the slumber on her 18th birthday, leading to more Sleeping Beauty parallels.)  
> Rose- 16  
> Eric- 16  
> Nahla- 15  
> Veronica- 14  
> Alex- 13


	4. Planning? Treason? What's the Difference?

Reading the Journal was… calming. It allowed him to gather his thoughts, and begin planning. Nothing too specific- no doubt if he planned to exact details, something would go wrong- but the broad strokes were simple enough. He had three days to start planning and sort out his time. 

First, he needed to ward his room. 

Nothing too complicated- just a simple protection word that locked the door when anyone besides himself, Alfred and the Shardbinders tried to enter. Since he had done it every time he changed locations over the past 11 years, it was a relatively easy task. After drawing the symbols in each corner, he covered them with some papers and cloth, just so if he invited any of the alchemists in, they wouldn’t notice them.

Good, now that he had a secure location, he needed something to defend himself with. 

A whip would be good. A dagger was easier to conceal, but it wasn’t something he was used to using. He also didn’t have access to iron at the moment- only bronze, so all he would have been able to make was a knife. 

It was surprisingly _easy_ to make the whip. Every room in the Guild seemed to have some Alkahest Stock, and he had more than enough clothes to wear a clean set each day as long as he kept on top of his chores. All he needed to do was dismantle one of his outfits and transmute the material into a whip.

One day ago, it would have taken him an hour, and the results could have ended in failure. 

Now, with eleven more years of experience, it took him _two minutes_ to pull everything apart and put it back together. Fascinating- so it seemed that despite his body and some of his emotions being younger, his abilities remained. He remembered that in his contract, it stated that his muscle memory would also go back with him, so-

Right. Now wasn’t really the time for rambling. He needed to plan.

* * *

Now that he had a secure location and a means to defend himself, he needed to plan. He grabbed a sheet of paper and began writing.

_Objectives:_

_\- Find a private place to talk to Alfred._

_\- Find a way to access the Liber Logaeth._

_\- Find a safe place for one alchemist and seven Shardbinder children to live._

_\- Get everyone out without alerting the guild._

_\- Seal away the Liber Logaeth without alerting the Guild._

He hesitated before adding the last one. He didn't know if it would anger them, but it wouldn't _break_ the deal as far as the contract was concerned, and he knew better than to trust blindly. With those thoughts in mind, he placed his quill on the paper and wrote a quick, final goal. 

When the ground didn't swallow him up and send him back to the future, he allowed himself to relax and look at the last- and somehow least pressing- objective he wrote.

\- _Try to find what creature the Entity's symbol represents and their_ _alliances_.

He pressed his lips together in thought. After a few seconds he added some more general goals to the list. His mind thought back to what Miriam told him about the experiments, about the _emptiness_ they made her feel. He knew what his first goal would be, regardless of the contract. 

_\- Try to keep the Shardbinders’ spirits up._

_\- Earn/Keep the Guild members’ trust to gain access to the Liber Logaeth._

_\- If unable to perform the previous step, find the location of the Liber Logaeth, and Seal it before leaving._

He took a deep breath and tried to calm his heart. This was _treason._ He was going to look the Guild in the eye, look at everything they had done for him, and spit in their face. 

_Good._ A vicious part of his mind responded. He's already seen where his trust in them has led him. He steadied his breathing. If his- If his brothers decide to kill him, then so be it. If it means his siblings survive and the catastrophe never occurs, it will be worth it. 

_It will be worth it._

With a shaking hand, he began to add the day to day goals.

_\- Don’t break down when seeing the Shardbinders._

_\- Don’t attack the other Guild members._

_\- Do not let the others know about the change in skill level._

The writing was messy, but legible. That was fine, since the notes were for ordering his thoughts just as much as they were instructions for himself. Now all he needed to do was expand on the ideas and start planning. He was given three days to himself. He also had his usual study times, which he wouldn’t be needing right now. If he didn't draw attention to himself, the other Guild members hopefully wouldn't notice his change, since most of them were focusing on the ritual. 

_\- Find a private place to talk to Alfred._

Alfred was likely going to check on him if Henry informs him of his illness, so that might not be an issue… however, Alfred had been distancing himself lately, and been acting odd during their few interactions- no doubt due to the Guild's horrific plans. If he remembered correctly, Alfred was probably just starting his plans to put Miriam in a ten year slumber, seeing as the Guild haven’t listened to him for the past- five months.

Johannes tried to remember the last time he and Alfred had spoken to each other alone. It felt like every time they tried to talk to each other, another Guild member was there. 

Which meant that the Guild was most likely keeping an eye on Alfred. 

That complicated matters somewhat. 

Deciding to look into it later, he focused on the more pressing issues, such as how he would react to seeing his siblings again, _alive._ If there was a more extreme reaction and he threw up, he could claim his “illness” was acting up. 

Henry’s assumption would be surprisingly helpful. 

Looking to his previous notes, he began to add details to the day to day goals, since they took priority. 

_\- Don’t break down in front of the Shardbinders_

  * _Try to avoid thinking of their deaths when meeting them. Focus on the fact that they're alive._
  * _If that step cannot be followed, claim the “illness” is acting up._
  * _If a bad reaction occurs after a reasonable amount of time for the illness to have left, claim it was something you ate?_



_\- Don’t attack the other Guild members._

  * _Think of the goal and the consequences of harming them._
  * _Try to stay in your previous mindset when meeting them?_



_\- Do not let the others know about the change in skill level._

  * _Try to avoid transmuting in front of them._
  * _Do not get into arguments with them._
  * _Avoid discussing theory with them._



It took longer than expected to sort out his thoughts. He could already feel his body protest against sitting in one place for too long. He checked the time- it was evening, so most of the Guild would be expected to grab a meal soon. Some of the Guild- like he and Alfred- had a habit of getting lost in their work and forgetting the time, so he didn’t need to worry too much about making an appearance, even once his “illness” cleared up in three days. 

Still, food was important- and being able to access three full meals a day was a _luxury_ , one that he didn’t intend to squander. 

To ensure that no one would find his notes even if they somehow made it past the wards in his room, he transmuted the paper- along with some leather- into a book, ensuring that the writing was still intact. 

It was a relatively uncomplicated process to seal the book since it was just an ordinary object with no spellwork or power within it. Using a Blood Seal was the safest option, as it ensured that only he could open it. 

He double checked to make sure everything was sealed correctly, and headed to the kitchen. It was late enough that he could hopefully avoid the other Guild members. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I was reading some of the Journals in RotN, and realised that the children were brought in near the end of 1767, meaning some later story elements have been changed. (Goodbye, headcanon that Miriam and Gebel grew up together in the same orphanage.)
> 
> In this story, Gebel, Miriam, Eric and Rose were brought in first, while Nahla, Veronica and Alex were brought in around 1771, as in the Journals, there is a section where the unnamed writer complains about the lack of test subjects. Then there's a skip from 1767 to 1773, so I'm going to assume that in between those two years, more children were found.


	5. Well, it is December...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I just realised that the Ritual was _one month after_ and not ten days after the Laki Eruption (the "month " date is shown to have changed in the journals, so I'm guessing the ritual was around July 2nd and not the 12th of June like I originally thought). This means that Johannes was sent back to December, not November, so some edits have been made to the previous chapters now that I have re-read the journals with the dates in mind. 
> 
> It also means the Christmas chapter will be sooner then expected, and half of this chapter was moved to the next few updates. Yay. 
> 
> I also spent longer than I should have looking up 1780s english kitchens. Far longer than I should have.

Wary of the possible encounters, he began walking to the kitchen. While the dining hall was only used for at specific times- when it wasn’t being used for alchemy experiments- the kitchens were almost never locked, most likely due to the odd sleeping and eating habits of most alchemists. 

Going there was… surprisingly easy. Not just knowing the way perfectly- which was expected- but he instinctively nodded- and smiled- at the occasional passing Guild member. Despite half wanting to run or attack them, it felt _natural_ to smile at them. Easy. 

It felt _safe_ \- dangerous. 

He began walking slightly faster. 

Actually using the kitchen to cook was another thing. He knew how to make simple meals before, but he had never really _used_ the kitchen the Guild had, so it would probably be best to familiarise himself with the area before attempting anything too complicated. For now some cooked meat and salt would be fine, maybe even with some- _dear God, that’s a lot of herbs._

When he entered the larder, he noticed that the place had enough spell-work on it to keep the temperature constant, which was rather excessive considering it was _December._ Stopping the kitchen and other rooms from getting cold was one thing, but renewing the spells that stopped the _cold outside temperature_ from interacting with the _cold storage room temperature_ seemed… wasteful. 

The good news was that there were Bindings in the oven that stopped his food from burning. At least that explained how he had never burned a meal here despite his lack of cooking knowledge. 

His past self had been unobservant in various areas then. Good to know.

 _Breathe._ _Let it go._

That didn’t matter now. What mattered was keeping the others safe and healthy. What _mattered_ was what he does now. 

With that though in mind, he ate and headed to bed. 

* * *

When Johannes woke up he was surprisingly… refreshed. He didn’t wake up multiple times during the night, he didn’t have any nightmares, nothing disturbed him. He was just… relaxed. Refreshed.

It was before sunrise, and he had slept soundly _the entire night_ in a place where he considered himself surrounded by enemies. _Breathe. Focus_. It was dangerous and concerning, but not so much that he needed to focus on it over his other goals.

He tried to force himself to relax. It was only a minor issue, and even if it wasn’t panicking would do _nothing_. He needed to review his notes, continue planning-

-and get dressed, first. He had several sets of clothes, and wearing the same clothes he slept in would probably raise some alarm among the other guild members if they decided to check on him. It was common knowledge among the guild that he had a bad habit of trying to go about his routine no matter how much of a cold he came down with, and studying when he should be resting. 

He had broken that years ago, and would need to break it again, apparently. Part of his mind was telling him that _it was no excuse_ , despite knowing that illness and exhaustion would lead to mistakes. Foolish ones that could put lives at risk. He ignored the part of his mind that believed otherwise and continued dressing. It wouldn’t be a problem now while he was healthy, but it was best to start building some new and old habits now. 

As he put his clothes on, he noticed that while they were practical and easy to move around in- since he usually went out to gather ingredients in them- they didn’t offer much in terms of defence. 

That would need to change, but he didn’t have the materials for that yet. He only needed one for armour, but to do that he would need to sacrifice more of his outfits that he felt comfortable with. He could gather the supplies for something more protective over the next week since he wouldn’t need them until he left. 

Still, it wasn’t the most comfortable thing, walking around undefended near enemies- even if the place was- once- his home. 

He buried his head in his hands and tried to pull the small, vicious part of him that had made itself known yesterday back up. Spiralling would do _nothing._ It didn’t matter that the Guild had _raised him_ since he was five. What mattered was that the Guild crossed lines they shouldn’t have years ago, and were crossing another one soon. Betraying his brothers was _nothing_ compared to saving his siblings and stopping thousands of innocents from dying. 

He couldn’t deny that a part of him was relieved beyond measure that Alfred wasn’t among the people supporting the Ritual.

He tried to ignore the bitter taste in his mouth as he took out the two books from the bottom of his drawer and-

Odd. He knew that before, the “hourglass” on the cover was empty in the bottom bulb, there was now a single grain of sand. A warning, he guessed, to ensure he knew that he was running on a time limit. 

It was rather unnecessary, considering the ritual wasn’t something that could simply be _forgotten about._ He doubted he would need it, but if he did get too lost in his research…

Perhaps a visual reminder wasn’t a bad idea.

Shaking himself from that train of thought, he looked at his notes. Some of them, despite having details, still… needed work. More importantly, some hadn’t been developed at all. They took priority now, even if they _weren’t_ day to day habits, it was better to have a general idea for his entire list than several scenarios for only one area. 

Accessing the Liber Logaeth was still an issue that he wasn’t sure how to solve- he knew its location, and, while it wasn’t perfectly guarded, it was still _in Samuel’s quarters._ If it was Sealed away right after he had visited, it didn’t matter if he _shouldn’t_ know how to do such a thing, he _would_ be found guilty. 

Sealing it just before escaping was looking like a more likely option every second. Besides, even if he Sealed it away without drawing attention to himself, Alfred- and maybe even the other Shardbinders- would be the prime suspects. 

This was- 

_Breathe. Focus. Breathe. Focus._

It took longer than he would have liked to relax his muscles, but not spiralling again meant progress. 

He couldn’t do anything about the Liber Logaeth right now, but what he _could_ do was support his siblings and try to find a safe place for them to stay. Stopping the Guild meant _nothing_ if they were destroyed before they were free. 

_-Try to keep the Shardbinders’ spirits up._

  * _Reassure them that they are human and that their lives matter._
  * _Find ways to spend more time with them._
  * _Make them sweets._
  * _Make them clothes._



They were small ways he could help, but he remembered how happy something as simple as a well cooked meal made Miriam feel during... everything. An idea struck him. While the event wasn’t usually celebrated among the Guild, he and the others had celebrated it before, and it _was_ December… 

  * _Make something for Christmas._



He couldn’t make them anything “frivolous,” but he knew how to cook now, and he _could_ make clothes… Eric and Rose would also be celebrating their birthday, since they were born in December, so it wouldn’t arouse _too_ much suspicion if he took time to make gifts for them.

All he needed to do was make sure his improved skills wouldn’t reach the ears of the Guild- which shouldn’t be too hard- and make sure that none of the Guild was present- also not difficult, considering that even _Alfred_ was working on his project during this time of the year.

This was… not the type of planning he thought he would be doing when he was sent to the past, but… giving his siblings a few more happier memories and courage while he gathered materials and planned was far better than panicking. 

Anything was better than waiting.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please let me know if the Christmas idea feels too odd or if it came out of nowhere, or if you think there are some areas I need to improve upon.


	6. Plan B?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry the update took so long. I spent for more time than I should have writing and rewriting this chapter. Also, Uni exists, so that's going to slow down my updating speed.

It took longer than it should have, yet shorter than he expected to realise he probably should get something to eat. While a part of his mind was used to going longer without eating and had only just gotten used to the idea of three meals per day, his body was still used to it. 

It probably was a good time to take a break regardless. While he made progress on how to cheer his siblings up, he had no _idea_ where to start looking for a safe place for them to stay. Spending more time with the others would definitely cut into time that could be spent planning, but-

_“At one point, I had lost my will to live.”_

It would be worth it. 

He just needed to keep suspicion off him while he planned treason and spent time preparing for a celebration he never cared too much for. 

* * *

Halfway through planning ways to gather supplies for the others to make their life more comfortable, he realised one of his errors.

He had forgotten to create a backup plan. He didn’t even _consider_ one.

Ideally, getting his sibling out would involve alerting no one and no conflicts. He knows they’re willing to fight demons- _even each other_ \- for the good of mankind, but he has no idea how prepared they are to fight other people. 

How willing they are to fight their caretakers. 

Once he tells them the truth, some of them will be willing- they were taught to protect others from demons, but some of them- _especially Alex_ \- _won’t be._ They might be ready to leave on his word, but going _against_ the Guild? Against the people who had taken them in?

Even if only one of his siblings ends up staying or left behind, it would be one too many. 

If he can get Alfred involved, then it might be easier to convince them. It would also make things safer and easier for the others if there was an extra set of eyes protecting the Shardbinders, _and_ planning would also be smoother since there would also be someone to bounce ideas off of- but getting the chance to speak along with Alfred would be difficult. Even more so if he wanted the Shardbinders _and_ Alfred to be alone in the same room for that conversation.

If he somehow avoids raising any red flags among the Guild with his other ideas, something like that would definitely put him under scrutiny.

Even after they escape, there's also the issue of the Guild hunting them down afterwards. Despite it being unlikely the Guild would be willing to waste resources during such a desperate time, the desperation might just make them more dangerous.

If things turn for the worst, he needs to be prepared. The Entity claimed that his muscle memory would carry over, so he should be fine, but… 

It was still best to test how well he could fight. Just to be sure.

While his room wasn’t ideal for practice, if he controlled the reach of the whip and aimed it just above his bed, he should be able to practice without causing any damage. Even if he doesn’t aim correctly, it shouldn’t make too much noise or draw anyone’s attention. 

Carefully, he positioned himself into the familiar- _yet foreign_ \- stance, aimed at the area he wanted to attack, and allowed his muscles to guide him. _Pull back, aim, strike-_

It was _too uncontrolled-_ going too far- he needed to _pull back!_ But his reaction was a few seconds slower than it should have been, the whip had already-

He was-

_Too slow- not enough force._

It had been _years_ since he had those kinds of problems with using a weapon. Even when he was a _novice_ \- when he first decided on the whip simply because it took less materials to make- the major problems he had were due to his lack of _practice,_ not lack of _strength **,**_ so how did he-

_Breathe. Breathe._

He allowed his body to relax and his muscles to loosen.

_Breathe, focus. Focus, analyse._

While he could still move the same way- still knew _how_ to move the same way on instinct, his muscles _couldn’t_ handle the full force of the whip. His body wasn’t _used_ to combat.

Which is why his bed is somewhat torn up. 

He winced as he began repairing the bed. There wasn’t any damage to the wood- just some torn sheets- which meant he still had somewhat better control than he did years ago- three days ago. 

Muscle memory and muscular strength were apparently rather different things- which meant he needed to begin building up his muscles again. It would take time- he needed to start small and go from there- his body was well built, but it wasn’t _strong_ in the areas it needed to be. His exercises would need to take particular muscles into account, make sure to exercise daily and- 

Well.

This was a problem. One that would need to be fixed in the future. 

He might end up with less planning time than previously thought.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I finally finished playing B:CotM2. It was fantastic, and my bother and I now have a multiplayer game that we both enjoy and can play together, so that's nice. 
> 
> One of the bosses destroyed one of my head-cannons, so that's going to need tot change in this fic. Whoops.


	7. Just a Glimpse

His sleep was undisturbed, _again._ He didn’t wake up multiple times during the night, no nightmares or struggling, he didn’t even have _trouble falling asleep_ , despite him being well rested from the previous night. 

That might be a bigger concern than previously thought. None of the Alchemists practiced spells that would interfere with someone's dreams. If some sort of creature was watching him and aware of his plans, then...

It wouldn't hurt to be prepared.

Making a mental note to set up a ward around his bed, he began getting ready to head to the library. Books on combat were the priority now, he already knew how to set up the appropriate wards to protect his dreams. 

On instinct, he reached for his whip before hesitating- while having it close would be a comfort, it was just too risky to carry around a weapon that, as far as the Guild was concerned, he had no need for and no idea how to use. So, with some reluctance, he exited his room unarmed.

* * *

It was… odd, entering the maze-like library again, with completely different intentions than he had last week. Before, he was trying to find books that would spark some new idea or grand concept that would help people all around the country- something hat would make a _difference_. Even if what he was doing now would save countless lives, he wouldn't deny that all he truly wanted was to keep his mentor and siblings safe. 

Thankfully, while the library was always occupied, it wasn’t too difficult to avoid conversation there. Most of the people here were too engrossed in their own work and theories to notice him looking through the section that contained books about combat- a section that he had never been interested in once he entered his teen years. 

It was easy to grab several books on combat, exercises, and muscles to take back to his room to study. The Guild’s respect for knowledge meant none of them needed to worry about the books, which led to a lack of a librarian. 

While he still preferred to read the books in the library and it was easier to get into the right mindset there, it unfortunately lacked the privacy he would need for his studies. Maybe he could return at a later hour when it was unoccupied, but with how often other members of the Guild also studied there, if he wanted time alone there, it would have to be past midnight. 

In other words, his room was currently the only place where he could study at reasonable hours. The privacy it provided was more important than the atmosphere that the library had.

With that thought in mind, he left and began walking back to his room. He had been known to stay in his room for days when trying to research in private, so it shouldn’t raise any suspicion. In addition, most of the Guild were probably beginning to prepare for the ritual, which meant he could study, exercise and plan undisturbed. 

He froze when he noticed the hallway leading to the southern wing. Before he could convince himself not to, he made an abrupt turn towards that corridor. 

His room could wait. This halfway led to the rooms which housed the Shardbinders. It wouldn’t be too difficult to check up on them- their bedrooms and washrooms all led to a single main room that they all shared. He could just pass by and check up on them. Not to talk to them yet, just to- _make sure they were alive-_ see them. 

One step in front of the other. He would be _fine._ Everyone else in the Guild was still alive, so it would stand to reason that his siblings would be as well. He needed to keep his pace even- running like a lunatic would just cause a scene, no matter how much he wanted to run towards- and away from- the room. 

Just one step at a time. 

The door was right in front of him. He was not going to turn away again.

It was quiet, but that wasn't surprising- while Eric and Veronica were usually loud, most of the Shardbinders would talk quietly to each other, or play and study in silence- He was being paranoid. He just needed to keep his breathing even. Gently, so he didn't disturb anyone in the room, he opened the door slightly and- 

_Empty?_

The room was empty. 

_The room was empty._

His- the Sharbinders wouldn’t all be in the connecting bedrooms and washrooms- they- 

_Breathe._

_Has something already happened?_ The Deal was six months, but what if that was wrong? The eruption hadn’t happened, the skies were still clear, so- 

_Breathe._

Had he done something? _Oh dear Lord,_ did Henry notice something was off? Did he warn the others? Did his siblings die sooner because of him? Had Johannes robbed his siblings of another six months of their lives? Did- 

_He needed to-_

“Johannes? Are you alright?” 

Johannes flinched as he turned and nearly attacked the figure standing there before he remembered that he was without a dagger, and his whip was still in his room.

 _Who- An alchemist-_ Dark hair, blue eyes- Richard. _Breathe._

“I- The Shardbinders- are they-?”

“Hm?” Richard blinked as he looked into the room. “Oh, yes. They’re in training.” _Training_. Johannes leaned his back against the wall. _Training._ They were _alive_. They were- “I know you get worried about them, but you really must understand that sometimes, these things are necessary.” _Breathe._ “Besides, are you alright? Henry said you weren't feeling well, and you still have the rest of the day off.” 

Johannes stared and tried to keep his breathing even. Right- he needed an excuse. He- “Apologies Master Richard, I- I’m fine. Well- I felt fine, but-” 

Richard laughed, surprisingly relaxed. “I’ve told you a hundred times, Johannes, it’s just Richard. ‘Master’ makes me feel old, I’m only thirty. Besides, with the way you’re studying, you might get the title by the end of next year!” 

Gaining a title and the respect of the Guild was the least of his concerns. He hesitated before trying to give the appropriate response. “I appreciate the compliment, but I really must get going.” He nodded respectfully, taking a deep breath to compose himself afterwards.

“No argument about the title? You really _must_ be ill.” Richard commented as Johannes began to turn away. 

With another deep breath, he- hopefully appearing calm- walked down the hall towards his quarters. While it was difficult to keep himself steady, he managed to make it back to his room without gaining any stares or odd looks. He gently closed the door behind him before allowing himself to lean against it for support and slid towards the floor, resting his head on his knees.

The Shardbinders were currently ‘training’- all that mattered right now was that they were _alive_ \- but ‘training’ meant they were in pain, exhausted, and famished.

Maybe there was something he could do to help already.


	8. Gebel

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for no update last month, life was more busy than expecting. Here's to hoping I can get the Christmas chapter up by Christmas.

Gebel let Miriam guide him back to their area they all shared. He could never concentrate after the training sessions. His crystal growth being slower than the others apparently meant he was expected to be able to go further than them.

In- Out- In- Out.

The session was over, he needed to calm down. He remembered Alfred’s lessons- _keep the breathing deep and consistent, it will help your heart rate slow_.

In. Out. In. Out.

One would think that after nearly four years of training and two of Shard-Binding, he would be used to it. Especially since the training had become more infrequent over the last year, with it happening only once a week rather than every two days, and yet…

The discipline? Fine. The weapon training? Manageable. The crystal growth? Irritating. Un-binding Shards? Painful, but it wasn’t the worst thing in the world.

_Shard-Binding?_

_Excruciating. Violating._

In… Out… In… Out…

He understood why- they were expected to fight the threat of demons, when it came. Absorbing Shards was something that would happen during battle, and they would need to fight through it. Only children were able to be implanted with crystals, and the crystals were one of the few things powerful enough to fight demons.

The Guild had provided them with shelter and food ever since he was three. He and his siblings would have died long ago if the Guild hadn’t taken them in.

That didn’t stop the small amount of bitterness from rising in him as he was led back. None of them had _asked_ for this. To- to be turned into weapons and slowly be eaten alive by the crystals.

None of them asked for this, but it was probably better than dying on the streets.

Probably.

He looked at Miriam, still alive, no longer doubting her humanity. At Rose and Eric, willing to protect the others no matter the circumstances, keeping an eye on Nahla and Veronica, even while they both shouldered Alex, whose heart was so soft he could barely bring himself to kill a _demon_.

He didn’t regret meeting them. Didn’t regret living long enough to meet any of them. He would _always_ be grateful he was able to become part of their lives.

Even if he did selfishly wish the circumstances were better.

Veronica suddenly stopped, surprising the others. Alex would have fallen off- since Eric continued to walk and Rose stopped- if Nahla hadn’t reached to also support him in the same moment.

They turned their questioning stares to Veronica, who in response, simply asked “Do you smell that?”

While Gebel didn’t smell anything, it was clear from the way Miriam suddenly appeared more alert that once it was brought up, she was aware of the scent too.

With caution, Rose placed her hand on the knob that led to their area and began to turn it, Eric watching over her shoulder in case she missed something.

With a push, the door quietly and quickly opened. Everything was in the same place, from the toybox in the corner, to the pile of blankets and pillows next to the bookshelf on the other side of the room. There was a faint smell of something sweet, and the table had- apparently been decorated? More importantly-

“Johannes?” He breathed, throat still sore from screaming. “What are you doing here? Henry said you were ill!”

Johannes froze for a second as Gebel spoke, but in the next moment gave Gebel a bright- but clearly false- smile. “I’m alright- I heard that the training was worse than usual, so I-”

Gebel cut him off before he could finish the sentence. Johannes didn’t need the crimes- _actions-_ the actions of the others on his conscience. “It’s- fine. I’m fine. Don’t worry, Johannes.”

He pretended to ignore Johannes’ sharp inhale as Miriam helped him sit at the table, and instead focused on what was actually on the table.

Fried potatoes…? _Why had Johannes-_

“I told you: I heard that the training was worse than usual.” Johannes replied to the expression on Gebel’s face in a low voice and looked towards Alex, who was already as comfortable as he could be, wrapped in blankets thanks to Rose and Eric. He gave them a weak smile, and continued in a voice that sounded far too careful “So I thought it would be a good idea to make something that everyone here likes.”

Gebel smiled in thanks as Miram sat down beside him, while he didn’t feel well enough to eat yet, Miram clearly didn’t have the same issue, and had already begun.

On the other side of the table, Veronica and Nahla had taken a seat as well, being too exhausted to question the sudden meal. Gebel smiled as Eric and Rose grabbed Alex- still wrapped up in blankets- and placed him on the seat next to Veronica. They then sat on opposite ends of the table, with Eric sitting next to Alex, and Rose taking the seat next to Johannes, who was now sitting next to Gebel and giving him a familiar look that Gebel couldn’t quite place.

Cautious that he would make himself sick, he grabbed a few fried potatoes and began nibble on the ends of them. While he was hungry, he was pretty sure that throwing up would ruin the cheerful atmosphere that was already so fragile.

Thankfully, he was saved from Johannes’ concerning stares by Rose, who gave Johannes a teasing smile and asked, “Really?” as she watched everyone eat. Knowing her, she wouldn’t even touch the meal until everyone had finished their portion. “Food, right after training?”

Johannes, rather than looking affronted and placing his hand across his chest in a dramatic fashion like he usually did when teased by Rose, simply gave her a smile that looked almost sad. “Miriam never seemed to mind.”

“It’s true.” Gebel interrupted, taking care not to raise his voice more and damage his throat. “I swear I once watched her eat an entire pizza before training, and she was _fine_.” Better than fine, really. He shuddered as he recalled the event. Sometimes, he swore Miriam was some kind of valkyrie in disguise with the way she fought. “She didn’t even get a _stomach ache_.”

Rose smiled at him, clearly grateful he was able to keep the conversation light, and leaned against the table, adrenaline from the earlier training wearing off. He couldn’t completely make out the conversation Miriam was having with Nahla, Veronica, and Eric, but the mood was light, so he didn’t mind.

Abruptly, Johannes stood up, and turned away from everyone before they could ask him what was going on.

“Sorry,” he gasped out, “Sorry, I need- I need to leave. I’ll be back in an hour to grab the bowls.”

“Johannes-“ Gebel reached out and grabbed him by the sleeve, “Is… everything alright?” Of course it wasn’t, but Gebel needed to ask, to present Johannes with the option to open up.

Hesitantly, Johannes reached out, and placed his hand on Gebel’s shoulder, and the grip was surprisingly tight. “Everything’s _fine_ , Gebel. Much better then alright.” Johannes’ voice was strained, but Gebel could tell the words were genuine.

Which only made him more worried.

The hand on his shoulder felt… wrong, in some way. Unfamiliar, despite the fact that physical comfort- pats on the back, the occasional hug- wasn’t uncommon. Johannes was _clinging_ to him, and he’s pretty sure if he wasn’t already exhausted, it might actually hurt.

He should have opened his mouth to tell Johannes as much, but he could finally place the look in his friend’s eyes.

He’s only seen Johannes act this way once before. Maybe it’s more subdued now, but the actions are the same- the worry, the clinging to make sure he was _real_ and _there_. It was just like when they were younger…

Just like when they were 8 and Johannes had found out what becoming a Shardbinder meant- the pain, the connection to demons, the shortened life span- all of it. Gebel himself didn’t remember the exact details of that day, since it was years ago. What he did remember was Johannes _insisting_ that he could talk the other alchemists into finding a way to fix it.

Gebel didn’t know what was said that day- he assumed it was some sort of scolding, because when he saw Johannes next, the boy was in tears, gave him that _look,_ and refused to let go of Gebel for the rest of the day. Johannes even stayed with him and the others for the _entire week_. It was only with Gebel’s constant promises that this was _okay_ \- he could use it to _save people_ , and that he was living longer than he originally would have- that Johannes finally calmed down and agreed to put it behind them.

Gebel should try to comfort his oldest and closest friend, but… Johannes hasn’t told him what’s wrong, so he had no idea what to do.

Instead, he just remained silent as Johannes relaxed his grip, turned, and left, looking far more composed than he was a second ago.

“It’s going to be fine,” Miriam reassured him, once it was clear Johannes was out of earshot, “His illness was probably just a bit worse than he realised, and after another few days in bed, he'll be feeling great.”

He frowned. Johannes might have been able to fool the others- maybe even Miriam, but if he thought he could fool Gebel, who has been his best friend for _years_ , well… he had another thing coming.

Something was wrong with Johannes, and Gebel would die before he ever let him carry those burdens alone.


	9. The First Dream

He didn’t allow himself to relax until he was in his room. There was too much at stake. If he broke down now, everything would be for nothing. 

_Before_ , he wouldn’t have had trouble shoving his emotions down- while it’s true he couldn’t pretend to be happy, it was easy to push aside grief for the sake of moving forward. Now, though? He _knew_ that- despite his memories telling him otherwise- he had no experience pushing down the horror of seeing people he thought dead still be alive.

He should have known better, but it was so _easy_ to pretend nothing had happened, at first- that this was just another dream, and that he would wake up, but-

Maybe it was the surprisingly light atmosphere, maybe it was lack of suspicious eyes on him, the lack of accusation in their voices when they spoke to him, but-

Suddenly, everything had felt too real. Far too real for it to be a dream, for him to _pretend_ it was a dream.

With a shaking hand- he was vaguely aware that any runes he tried to draw now would be useless- he opened and shut the door to his room. Sitting on his bed, he finally allowed himself to let his guard down, and _breathe_. 

_Breathe_. He didn’t bother trying to push down the sorrow here. All he needed to do was muffle any sounds he made with fabric. As long as he didn’t let anyone notice, they would assume it never happened. 

_Breathe. Analyse._

He had expected- well, he didn’t know what to expect. Gebel’s hair had been blonde- _of course it was-_ with only a few patches of grey. Gebel- _always has-_ still wore _glasses._

He should have known he would feel like this, no matter what. They were young _._ He knew, logically, how old they were when- but most of them had been “around his age.” 

Miriam may not have aged in her coma, but she always wore the expression of someone ten years older.

Here? They still looked so _young._

Miriam had _laughed_. It was only a weak- nearly silent- chuckle, but she meant it. It hadn’t been forced in the slightest. Johannes tried to focus on how she felt now- the hope she still had, not on the fact that she never had laughed _Before_. After she woke up, even on the best days, he could count on one hand the number of times she had _smiled_.

The others- they weren’t just walking corpses- they were there- so full of _life_ , despite everything. Talking to each other as if nothing had happened. 

For them, nothing did.

Despite the ball of ugly emotions gathering in his chest, despite being weighed down, he also felt…

Relieved? 

_Relieved._

He didn’t know if it was a sob or a laugh leaving his throat, but he covered it up regardless. It was fine. Everything was okay. Everything was okay, he just-

_Breathe. Focus. Breathe._

They didn’t look anything like they did then they died. Their bodies were- 

_Breathe._

That was years ago- _only months from now_. He needed to focus. With controlled breathing, he began a mental checklist: calm down, return to grab the plates, wash them, draw the protective runes, and go through a few basic exercises. 

He couldn’t let his grief overpower him. Not when he still had so much he needed to do.

He still had a mission to complete.

Keeping his actions deliberate, he reached for the Journal, began looking for protective wards against demons, and started planning on how to merge them with runes that affect sleep. 

Over the next few hours, he went over some of his and Alfred’s old notes and tested how well the runes fit together with the arrays that affected sleep, and pretended he wasn’t waiting until he knew the others were passed out from exhaustion before he would return to grab the plates. 

* * *

When Johannes went to bed, he was expecting it to take hours for his nerves to calm down so he could fall asleep. Instead, he fell asleep the moment his head hit the pillow.

* * *

“It would be easier if you waited a week before using that ward.” A voice calls out, sounding exhausted. “Though, it is unsurprising that you used it so soon.” 

Johannes doesn’t recognise the voice, what he _does_ recognise, however, is where he is, and the way it shifted from an adult's to a child’s. 

He doesn’t look directly at The Entity, but does turn to face their direction. “ _You’ve_ been invading my dreams?!”

“Nothing of the sort has been done.” They huff, almost like a parent scolding a particularly foolish child. “While you don’t have two minds and souls, you still have, technically, more than one. When you sleep, they either try to completely merge, or completely split and tear each other apart. Stopping that process has caused the restful and dreamless sleep.” 

Johannes tries not to let the dawning horror he feels show on his face. So this was the price. For all he knows, his soul could be destroyed. 

_Breathe_. 

As much as he wants to scream _‘that wasn’t part of the deal!’_ it would be suicidal to insult the one who holds all the cards here. He knows contracts with the supernatural rarely show all the details. 

So, instead he asks the first non-offensive question he can think of. While he is genuinely curious, he still has to hope the feeling of nausea will not be reflected in his voice. “I can understand why tearing myself apart would be horrible, but why would merging cause problems?” 

“If the merging is neat, it will be fine. This is messy. Emotions could end up attached to memories that had nothing to do with them.”

Part of him doesn’t need to shove aside the dread he feels at that. His hands are already itching for a pen and notepad. Part of him is already curious, wanting to know more about how that works, how to _record_ what the result would look like. 

Unfortunately, he has far more important questions to ask, and only part of him is curious.

In a tone that he hopes sounds calm and respectful enough, he asks. “Does that mean you lied to me? That simply by existing, here, at this point in time, there’s a chance that I might?”

“No,” they begin, their voice holding a note finality, “because it _will not happen_.” They aren’t focusing on him- thank goodness- but he can _feel_ the certainty behind their voice, as if simply because they said it, it will be so. 

“What?” The word splits out without meaning to. 

While they don’t have eyes right now, Johannes has the distinct impression that they would be rolling them if they could. “The terms of the contract will be broken if your soul or mind is altered in such a way. If that were the case, you would gain the powers necessary to save yourself.

“Besides,” They continue, as if they didn’t just reveal that they need to constantly work to keep the contract from turning them mortal, “by keeping the process slow and somewhat controlled, the minds and souls will eventually settle in a way that will leave you with a whole mind and soul. No extra or unnecessary parts.”

They chuckle, and Johannes almost takes a step back, because it sounds _inhuman_ , “There are many things you are justified to fear, but do try to take comfort in the fact that the Deal is not one of them.”

Though they didn’t add a “ _yet”_ to the end, he could almost hear it. He’s safe- at least from The Entity- for now. Somehow, the idea that one of his allies is a creature he knows close to nothing about doesn’t seem to comfort him.

Despite that, there’s something in the way they talk about the contract’s terms that…

Oh.

 _Oh._ He’s an idiot. He opens his mouth. Closes it. He might be wrong. They could lie to him to lower his guard. They might take offence to the question. But if he’s _right_ -

Pretending he’s more courageous than he is, he asks, “Does that mean you cannot harm me body, mind or soul?”

“I cannot interact with the physical world. All I could do was create the Journal for the contract, so I cannot harm you in body. Altering your mind or soul would either break the deal or be detrimental to closing the Liber Logaeth, so I cannot harm you in mind or soul, either.”

That’s… surprisingly reassuring, in a strange way. He won’t deny that he feels somewhat safer here, for now. As long as The Entity continues to value the Deal, he should be safe.

“You should leave soon,” The Entity almost looks… _defeated?_ as they said that, either hunching or relaxing their shoulders, “It’s detrimental for a mortal to stay here for longer than what they perceive to be an hour. Don’t worry, you’ll still have a full night’s rest.”

He won’t deny he wants to leave. While nearly anywhere sounds more comfortable than an unknown realm with being that is only an ally by formality, he just had one more question. Their reaction when he accused them of lying… it could just be their offence at the idea of the contract being broken, but if it wasn’t…

If this is the question that angers them, he’ll be shocked, so he takes comfort in his recently acquired knowledge, and knows that even if he wakes up before they answer, he won’t be leaving empty handed.

“Entity, before I leave-” He begins, before quickly changing his casual tone- the one he uses when asking himself if something works- into something more respectful. 

“Before I leave, I was wondering: are you capable of lying?”

_Silence._

They don’t say a word. He can practically feel the frustration radiating off them, and that’s answer enough. Despite that, The Entity’s glare seems half-hearted at best, since it doesn’t even have a fraction of the intensity their focus had. 

The frustration disappears within a moment of him feeling it, but the attempt at a glare remains. 

Absentmindedly, he notes that a glare really doesn’t have the same effect when the person on the receiving end isn’t forcing themself to look directly at the face, but rather, slightly beyond it. The glare is far more unnerving than intimidating, but that’s only because of the constantly changing features of The Entity.

The Entity, who _still hasn’t said a word._

While he can’t seem to get a good grasp of time here- there’s no clock, sun, or moon- he can tell that the hour is almost up, and The Entity _still hasn’t spoken._

If they can’t lie, it’s probably not a fact that they want to spread around. It also means that any conversations he has with them might not be as dangerous as he thought- if he can find out what, exactly, they gain from this, and how much power they really hold, the Deal might not be as uneven as he previously believed.

If he catches them in a lie, then he'll know this is an act to lower his guard. He's not foolish enough to trust them yet. Of course, even if they can't lie, he still needs to look for hidden meanings. Just because a being can't lie, it doesn't mean they can't mislead. 

The Entity still isn't speaking. They seem content to just wait until the hour is over and he needs to be sent back for his own health.

Well, if they’re not going to say anything, he might as well use the hour to plan. If he can study in a castle full of demons, he can plan in a realm with an unknown creature that can’t hurt him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> That's the first dream written! It took awhile to try and write the first half- originally it was much longer and much messier, by the time I finished cleaning it up, it was a bit shorter than I expected. 
> 
> I probably won't have the Christmas chapter up by Christmas, but I did end up researching different traditions for Christmas during the 1780s. I also somehow ended up reading about the history of pens, somehow.
> 
> Every comment is appreciated, so please comment, even if it is just to tell me I spelt something wrong. (My friend who usually helps me proof read has been busy for the last three chapters, so there might be more mistakes than usual.)


	10. Richard

Richard sighed as he straightened his back. Honestly, just because the ritual would convince their patrons to support them again, it didn’t mean they should halt the research that they already had. Everyone nowadays was acting like the ritual was all that mattered, now that the crystals had developed to the later stages. Even Stephan, who had basically turned his room into a small library on eastern mysticism, had put his studies on hold for it.

For goodness’ sake, _they didn’t even have a set date yet!_

They might be a bit tight on money, but it wasn’t so bad that they needed to give up their projects. 

Unfortunately, not everyone saw it that way, so here he was, moving piles of books into his study so he won’t be disturbed when he starts studying the different biology of large and small creatures.

Out of the corner of his eye, he noticed that Johannes had just entered the library. The boy didn’t seem busy, since he was clearly browsing- the books he was looking at had nothing to do with any of his studies. 

Apparently sensing that he was being watched, Johannes looked up. Good. With a smile, Richard waved him over. Johannes’ face almost seemed to scrunch up before it returned to a neutral expression. Whatever it could have been about, it was gone before Richard cared to decipher it. 

“Johannes, good, I was wondering if you would be able to move these tomes and books to my room- It should only take a few trips.” Richard smiled as Johannes approached, and gestured to the piles of books he collected from the various shelves.

Johannes froze for a second before he nodded with a murmur of “Of course, allow me.”

He quickly bent over and began stacking books in his arms- clearly far more than the boy could actually carry. Richard didn’t bother to say anything. He did recall his wife mentioning that it was around Johannes' age that boy’s try to show off. If the Johannes wanted to make a fool of himself taking more than he should, then that was his problem.

Richard grabbed a much smaller stack, and began to make his way back to his room. Once the general pleasantries were out of the way, a comfortable silence began, only to be occasionally interrupted by Johannes re-shuffling the books in a clear attempt not to drop them. Richard ignored the look of relief on Johannes face when he gently dropped the books outside his door.

As they returned for the last of the pile, Johannes grabbed a lesser amount of books, disappointment clear across his face as he made sure he could actually carry the second pile comfortably. Unfortunately, this left Richard to carry more than he did last time, but nowhere near the amount Johannes attempted.

They were almost at Richard’s room when he realised that he forgot to ask Johannes about his studies. Clearing his throat, but still looking straight ahead, Richard asked, “So, Johannes, how has your research been going?”

“It’s been…” Johannes hesitated, clearly not expecting the question, “alright. I’ve learned more than I expected to. Though, I don’t know how practical it’s going to be.” 

Richard wasn’t surprised. When Johannes found something interesting to look into, he would study for hours on end and spiral, leading to a completely different area from where he started. Which probably meant… “More theory?” Richard asked, expecting another long speech about what Johannes just learned.

“Nothing like that.” Johannes responded quickly- almost shyly, like he couldn’t wait for the conversation to end. 

“Oh?” Richard raised an eyebrow out of habit. How unlike him. Johannes would usually talk for at least half an hour about theories and what they could potentially mean for alchemy.

“I’m actually working on a project!” Johannes said in a rush, voice taking a slightly higher pitch. “It should be done late spring!” 

Richard almost dropped the books in relief- At least _someone_ would be studying towards something besides that- in a very literal sense- godforsaken ritual. It was best to encourage that, but he doubted Johannes would appreciate the charity. Besides, the last thing he needed was for Johannes to start acting like the rest of the Alchemists- believing money was guaranteed.

“If you wanted,” Richard began as placed the books next to the door to his room, “I would be willing to fund it if you help me with some of my work.” 

Now that he was facing him, he could see Johannes blink in surprise at the offer. “Oh! Well, it's all in the early stages now, but funding would be appreciated.” Johannes sounded calmer, only slightly embarrassed from his outburst before, as he placed the books next to the piles. “Are you sure it’s okay? I’ve heard we’re on a tight budget.”

Discussing budget was more a formality than anything else, even if Johannes didn’t completely understand it. “Oh, don’t worry about that, Johannes. If everything goes to plan, we should have more money coming in soon.”

* * *

Johannes was suddenly very, very grateful he was facing away from Richard in that moment. He knew, without a doubt, if he was facing the man, he would have said or done something he would regret.

And yet, _how dare-_

_Breathe._

Instead, he focused on keeping his voice steady as he nodded and said, “Understood, Master Richard. Thank you for the offer.”

Hopefully, the man wouldn’t think too much of- or even notice- the shift in tone.

“Well, I suppose I shouldn’t hold you up any longer, get back to your studies.” Richard huffed out once Johannes stood up.

Johannes nodded and turned, glad that a clear dismissal was given so quickly. He began walking back to the library in a brisk pace, putting as much distance between himself and Richard as possible.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the shotness of the chapter. I was going to include some other scenes/dialogue, but it ended up clunky when I did, so now we’re stuck with this... slightly better version.


End file.
